Page 37 of Heat of the Everflame

Taran pulled the flap open wider and waved at her, then pointed excitedly at me and grinned. Alixe rolled her eyes at her cousin’s antics, but she flashed me a smile and a deferential nod.

My tension eased enormously. As Luther’s right hand in the Royal Guard—and my newly minted military advisor—Alixe was a clever strategist and a fierce, capable warrior. She was exactly who I would have chosen to find a way out of a problem like this.

But my burgeoning hope was dampened by the glittering black points aimed at Luther’s chest. The mortals could be jumpy around Descended, not to mention their willingness to take their vengeance on whichever one of us they could.

I sank back into the darkness of the tent, chewing my lip as my mind raced for a solution. Alixe would surely have a plan, but could we get to her without being seen—and before the mortals took their anger over my escape out on Luther?

Taran cocked his head. “How did you get out of the camp? And why were you sneaking back in?” He looked me over, eyebrows furrowing. “And why are you soaking wet?”

“Long story,” I sighed. “We need a distraction. One that won’t end with them turning us into pincushions with godstone arrows.”

“How did they get so much godstone, anyway? I thought the Crowns destroyed it all. It’s bad enough that we have to worry about rebel bombs.”

“Bombs!” I cried. “That’s it! There’s a stockpile near the horses. We’ll set one off and disorient them, then we can sneak Luther out.”

“Using their own tricks against them. Ruthless, Queenie.” He smirked. “I like it.”

“There’s just one problem—how to light the fuses.”

“You’re a Crown, your light magic works here.”

“Not anymore. They’ve been drugging me with flameroot. It nullifies Descended magic.”

Taran’s face blanched. “Mortals can nullify our magic?”

“It wears off after a few days, but for now, I have nothing. I’m guessing you don’t, either?”

“Well... Ishouldn’t...” He stretched out his palms and stared down at them. His muscles tensed as if he were straining against some invisible force. “I felt my magic go dark when we stepped over the Lumnos border, but on the journey here, every now and then, it almost felt like...” His forehead wrinkled as he strained again, fingers flexing and curling. After a moment, he grunted and shook his head. “No. Nothing here, either.”

I grabbed the broadsword, then pulled my hood over my head. “I’ll have to get a flame from one of the firepits.”

“Let me do it. You’re the Queen, you should get someplace safe and hide.”

I shot him a lighthearted glare. “Don’t insult me, Taran. I’m not that kind of Queen. Keep an eye on Luther, and wait for me near the horses. There are a few already saddled—if we’re fast, we can grab them when we escape.”

Taran sidestepped to block my path and frowned down at me. “Luther’s not going to like this. Between the two of you, I’m not sure who I’m more scared to cross.”

He pulled a thick leather baldric from his shoulder, then grabbed my broadsword’s discarded scabbard and swapped it for his own. “Take this, at least,” he insisted, securing it across my chest. He pulled a sheathed dagger from his boot and tucked it into my waistband. “And this. Oh, and take—”

I put my hand on his chest to still him. “I’ll be fine, Taran. I’ll meet you at the horses.”

He blew out a breath and raked a hand down his face. “Lu’s going to kill me.”

I grinned and gave him a final swat on the arm, then turned and slowly crept out of the tent. The crowd had tightened around Luther, blocking him from view, but I could still hear the deep pitch of his voice arguing with Cordellia. The sound of it, the knowledge it gave me that he was alive and close by, rekindled my courage as I wove through the tents.

A few mortals scurried by, their shoulders brushing mine as they gossiped excitedly about the new hostage. Despite the late hour, half the camp had been roused after my disappearance, and the other half was now being awoken by the commotion. If we didn’t get out soon, there would be more mortals than even four strong Descended could realistically take on. As it was, I was struggling with the looming possibility that I might soon have to choose between my Descended friends’ lives or a mortal’s.

My pulse picked up speed as I neared the edge of the tents. The crowd spilled into the pathway, forcing me to tuck my chin and murmurpardon meandjust passing through.

When I finally emerged, my heart sank. A long line of darkened firepits lay extinguished for the night. There wasn’t a single glowing red coal, let alone a flame to be found.

I wandered in search of an untended lantern or forgotten flint, finding nothing of use. One quick, simple option rose into the sky behind me—but it was also the biggest risk.

With a deep breath, I pivoted on my heel. I kept to the edges of the crowd and craned my neck in pretend interest in the hostage while side-stepping closer to the roaring bonfire.

Cordellia stood with her back to the flames, and with the intense heat of the blaze, few of the Guardians had gathered behind her. By the time I made it to the stone perimeter circling the logs, I was almost entirely exposed.

As slow as I dared, I made a show of stoking the fire. Sweat beaded my brow and trickled down the column of my throat. A partially unburnt branch lay just inside the wall of flames. I reached for it with a trembling hand.

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